


Coup de foudre (Lightning Strike)

by almostblue (fictionalaspect)



Series: B.A.P short fics [7]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, I Don't Even Know, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Semi-Public Sex, Smeared Makeup?, Thunderstorms, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 13:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalaspect/pseuds/almostblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn. Seriously. Just...porn. Slight...Semi-public sex kink? Thunderstorms kink? Smeared makeup kink? Underaged maknae kink? TAKE YOUR PICK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coup de foudre (Lightning Strike)

**Author's Note:**

> All of this can be blamed on [thirstingdragon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thirstingdragon/pseuds/thirstingdragon), who said "Remember that time at Reading when Gerard Way had just died his hair and it rained and the dye ran all over skin? What if that happened to Zelo?" and I told her very firmly to stop torturing me and then spent the next two hours furiously writing this. My life /o\
> 
> Obvious Banglo warnings are obvious, but warnings for age difference, underage characters having sex, and an inbuilt power differential (i.e. leader/maknae) that's basically ignored in this because Junhong is calling the shots.

The crack of thunder sounds the moment they walk on stage, but it takes until the end of their (short) set for the first raindrops to fall. 

"Shit," Himchan hisses, all of them tearing off their mics as they wave to the crowd and quickly run back under the awning. Rain is one thing, but an outdoor idol show in a thunderstorm with 50,000 watts of electricity and a giant tent isn't exactly a great place to be. 

They take off all their electronics hurriedly, wincing as the rain abruptly becomes a torrential downpour. Junhong swallows. He's been in bad storms before, but never anything like this --- outside, unprotected, potentially about to get fried to death. 

"Over here!" Kang hyung calls, over the sudden sound of the raindrops. There's rubber matting on the floor in the pre-staging area, and the crew are tying down all the flaps, pulling everything tight in what Junhong slowly realizes is actually a rather brilliant solution to the problem. As long as they all stay on the rubber sheeting, they're fine. 

"What if the tent blows over?" Daehyun says, looking upwards.

"It won't," Kang hyung says, shaking his head. He'd been side stage when the rain started, and the collar of his T-shirt is wet. He's got his phone out, scrolling through the real-time updates on the weather. He has to yell to be heard over the press of idols, managers, stylists and technicians. "This is just a shower. It's going to pass in a few minutes. They're letting the crowd wait it out and then we can head over to the vans." 

Junhong nods. He jumps at the first crack of loud thunder, and when he looks up he's suddenly surrounded by people he doesn't know. Familiar faces, certainly, but he's never _met_ them. He's about to start pushing through the crowd to find the rest of his band when he feels a familiar hand tugging on his own.

"C'mon," Yongguk whispers, grinning ear to ear. He doesn't look like he's afraid of the thunderstorm. He looks like he's having the time of his life. His hair is wet, and his eye makeup is starting to smear. He's obviously already stuck his head outside in the storm. "C'mon, over here, there's a way out."

"Isn't that..."Junhong lets himself be dragged along as he speaks. "Isn't that a really bad...idea? Kang hyung said--"

"It's just a thunderstorm," Yongguk says dismissively. He pulls Junhong into the 'hallway' that they'd entered from, weaving their way through harried managers and busy technicians yelling into their headsets. "We won't be the tallest things around by far. Besides, it's just dirt under the stage. We'll be grounded."

"Under the _stage_?!" Junhong says, and then watches with wide eyes as Yongguk looks around, determines no one's watching, then neatly slips underneath the edge of the tied-down canvas. Juhong swallows. He has a feeling he knows where this is going, and while he's certainly fine with that...he'd rather not die today. He's never known Yongguk to be wrong, but--

"Come on!" Yongguk says, laughing, and he sounds so damn _happy_ in the hiss of the pouring rain that Junhong gives up and follows his lead. The minute he sticks his legs out he's soaked, and the two minutes it takes him to climb through the stage curtain and through the metal bar frame is more than enough to leave him dripping. 

"Hyung," Junhong says solemnly, once he's crouched down next to Yongguk, both of them safely on the bare earth and far away from the metal framework around the edges of the stage. "As much as I trust your judgement...I still think we're about to die." 

Yongguk grins, pushing Junhong's hair out of his eyes. "You're dripping," he says, instead of a reply. Junhong looks down to see trails of reddish pink staining his arms. The makeup noonas had touched up his dye right before they'd gone on stage.

"Fuck," Junhong says miserably, but Yongguk's smirk has gone cat-eyed and pleased, like Junhong is something perfect and precious instead of a drowned rat. 

"Look at me," Yongguk says, and quickly snaps a picture of him. Junhong blinks, squeezing his eyes together as the flash momentarily blinds him.

When he's able to see again in the semi-darkness, Yongguk pulls him closer to show him his phone. He already has one hand rubbing at the small of Junhong's back, and Junhong feels his stomach twist in an entirely different way. 

They're really not supposed to--he's _really_ not supposed to. And he's sure that Yongguk knows that, and he's sure that Yongguk's current hot-and-cold attitude has a lot to do with what's going on between them. 

RIght now, though, he's just staring down at Yongguk's phone. The flash is over-bright, washing out the image, making Junhong's mouth shiny and his eyes darker than normal. His makeup is all smeared. There's trails of color running down his neck, over his cheekbones, over the shoulders and chest of his stupid stage outfit. 

He looks--debauched. It's the only word Junhong can think of. 

"I really like thunderstorms," Yongguk says into his ear. Junhong turns and kisses him hungrily. He likes the way his stomach is twisting up inside, like he's a prize to be won. He likes the way Yongguk sought him out and brought him down here, even if it's theoretically stupid and might get them killed. 

It probably won't, though. Yongguk is too smart for that. Junhong trusts his hyung. 

"You look--" Yongguk breathes, biting down on Junhong's lip. His fingers press into Junhong's face, swiping the liquid away, smearing it across his skin. 

"So do you," Junhong says, because he's not the only one with smeared stage makeup on. Yongguk's hair isn't bleeding, though. His eyes just look dark and desperate when Junhong meets them with his own. 

Yongguk smoothes his fingers over Junhong's jaw. He bites at the curve of Junhong's neck and now they're getting all muddy and the coordi noonas are going to murder them but Junhong is having a lot of trouble caring when he's practically in Yongguk's lap. 

Youngguk brushes his fingers over Junhong's mouth, and Junhong reaches out with his tongue. He licks one, neatly drawing it into the kiss and then sucking on the tip for a moment. It's greedy and obvious and Junhong doesn't give a fuck. 

Yongguk groans softly. 

"Suck me off," he whispers, biting Junhong's ear. "Please. Please, I'll do whatever you want, later, later on tonight we can--"

Junhong nods hurriedly, only pulling away once Yongguk is done tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue. It always gives him shivers all the way down his spine, like he's been zapped by--well, by lightning.

"If I die going down on you," Junhong says, wasting no time in tugging at Yongguk's stage clothes and pulling his dick out. He's had enough practice. "I'm expecting you to come up with something to tell my parents."

"Oh god, please don't talk about your parents when you're holding my dick." Yongguk winces.

Junhong laughs. His entire body is soaked, warm and damp in the Korean summer storm. His knees are going to be all muddy and Yongguk tastes like salt and earth and Junhong still thinks going down on Yongguk is the best thing ever, no matter what all the other guys say about pussy. 

Not that Junhong would ever actually _bring this up_ in conversation, but still. Whatever it's like with a girl, he doesn't think it can be better than it is with Yongguk. There's something powerful about it, even as Yongguk gasps and thumbs Junhong's cheek, feeling the shape of himself in Junhong's mouth. Junhong likes the way Yongguk pulls at his hair, and the way he lets up when Junhong pinches his thigh, a silent signal to back off. He likes the way he can turn _Bang Yongguk_ into a shaking, gasping mess just by using his mouth and his hands. 

It's just fucking hot, basically. Junhong is already hard. 

"If you could see what you look like," Yongguk mutters, and Junhong grins. He curls his tongue around the head of Yongguk's cock and thinks about asking for another picture, just to see, but that's too dangerous. The rain is still pounding overhead, but soon someone is going to notice they're missing. 

Yongguk's phone rings. 

"Shit," Yongguk hisses. Junhong speeds up, his mouth meeting his hands, sticky and wet. Yongguk scrambles for his phone and turns the ringer off, and then fists one hand in Junhong's hair and comes. He muffles his noises by biting down on the meat of his forearm, his hips jerking up desperately.

Junhong just shoves Yongguk's dick to the back of his throat and swallows, because he's finally figured out how to do that without choking and also because they can't leave any evidence. 

"Come up here," Yongguk growls afterwards, and it's his stage voice, his lower register that comes out when he's rapping or when he's pissed off or (as Junhong has been discovering) during sex. 

Junhong surges up, pushing Yongguk backwards, kissing him as hard as he can. He knows his own mouth tastes like come, but Yongguk is licking him out, cleaning him up like a cat as he closes his fist around Junhong's cock. 

"We have three minutes," Yongguk whispers, in between biting kisses "Can you get off?"

"Yeah," Junhong breathes, because he can already feel his orgasm building. Sucking Yongguk off always turns him on like this. The wet fabric of his clothing is dragging against his skin, leaving everything slick and sensitive. Yongguk fists him quickly, urging him on, muttering things that Junhong never tires of hearing, like how good he looks and how pretty his cock is and how much Yongguk wants him. 

Junhong comes with a low moan pressed against the skin of Yongguk's shoulder. Yongguk shifts at the last second and somehow he manages to aim everything so Junhong comes onto the bare ground, and not their stage costumes. Thankfully. 

"See?" Yongguk murmurs, kissing him long and slow. "We're not dead. Everything's okay." 

Outside, the rain seems to be slowing. Junhong's phone is vibrating against his thigh. 

Junhong shoves his still-dripping hair out of his face, and wonders what brilliant lie Yongguk has planned to get them out of this one. 

"Yeah," Junhong says, smiling small and quiet. He accepts one final kiss, lingering and sweet. "Yeah, we're okay."


End file.
